Old-Fashioned Fruitcake
The last time I went to the dentist, I heard those three magic words: just a clean.
But it was not always this way. On the contrary, I was once told I needed no fewer than six fillings. And practically the first time I visited a dentist without needing fillings, it was time for… a root canal.
.JPG)
Time flies when you’re… experimenting on yourself.
It was nearly two and a half months ago that I wrote the introductory post of the Grand Productivity Experiment, resolving to Do Something about my general state of disorganization and unproductivity before it brought my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave.
(A note to those who haven’t been following this from the beginning: the introductory post outlines the first method tested. The Phase One post reports back on that and outlines the second method. And so forth.)
But I’m darned if I know what to call it. Follow the process, if you will, and advise accordingly.
As so often happens, necessity was the mother of this design. I got sick of constantly mislaying my tiny scissors – the ones I use for snipping off ends of thread, yarn etc. What with working on the rose quilt and churning out a stream of granny squares for prayer blankets – not to mention wrestling with socks – those scissors were getting a lot of use, in a lot of different places.
